


God is savage

by Greyneurosis (Spylace)



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Biology Inaccuracies, Cultural References, F/M, Implied/Referenced Abortion, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rape/Non-con Elements, Statutory Rape, Teen Pregnancy, Weird Biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 22:06:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1565702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spylace/pseuds/Greyneurosis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s biology. It’s inevitable. That doesn’t mean Mako will go down without a fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	God is savage

**Author's Note:**

> I love and despise this trope. 
> 
> It makes absolutely no sense but I can't seem to stop writing it.
> 
> Everyone is ooc in this, I just want to point that out. Or maybe it's me writing at 2 am in the morning again. Sorry for all the typos!

It starts low in her stomach, a slick, coiling feeling that makes her feel repulsive and gross. It’s not unlike her monthlies when her body cramps to expel the blood that isn’t even there. A potential lost. Pink smears between her thighs. When she opens her legs, she sees a puddle of putrid brown.

Disgusting—she disgusts herself. Why did her body betray her like this? Why with all the wonders of modern medicine, can’t she control it? Any of it?

Mako presents young, precocious at the age of twelve. The doctors say it is stress. Sensei merely looks tired.

She thinks, things could have been different had her parents known. Her father might have taught her sword making, an art passed from father to son for nine generations before she came along. Her parents were young then. Their faces free of dusts, skulls not yet caved in. They could have had another child but they wanted a son to take her place. She would have been a prize if only she had been an omega. Amaterasu, the one who shines in heaven, is a female goddess, an omega goddess. Being alpha meant her parents couldn’t promise her to just any boy. They would have considered a girl instead or—heaven forbid—an omega _boy._

Mako doesn’t have anyone to tell her differently.

She learns by example.

 

After she presents, she shuns contact with other children, the ground crew and the ranger hopefuls. The sole exception is Chuck who is close to her age, who smells familiar enough he doesn’t make her lips curl.

Mako will lay awake sometimes at night, after reviewing footages from past battles, past victories, the light off Coyote Tango’s battered armor to Striker Eureka’s sting blades, as she works her fingers between her legs, pinching her tiny prick into hardness thinking that maybe she had known how things would turn out. Precognition from a long-gone ancestor.

But omegas rarely present early and at that age, Chuck is a young, skinny, little thing. Easy to bully. Sullen enough to bait. Mad enough to follow her to the ends of the world and back.

Biology is a scary thing.

There was a time when Hercules Hansen treated her as she deserved to be—a fledging alpha. Young, no family of her own. Her sensei is a wonderful father but she had needed another alpha to teach her, to guide her, to have her back. To know that Hansen-san saw her, knew her, made her proud, it made her feel good.

It placed her in the crosshairs of his brother who had no qualms about taking advantage of little girls.

Her first sexual experience is with Scott Hansen who convinces her, despite the things she hears, alphas don’t get pregnant. Alpha girls don’t get pregnant and a quick search on her tablet would have told her everything she wants to know but she believed him. She wanted to believe him.

“You’re an alpha.” He says, slowly, surely, guiding himself in. “Christ you’re tight.” He complains of her even as she watches in wide-eyed trepidation, breath hitching from one heartbeat to the next to see them connected, to see herself stretched wantonly around his hard member like a livid, pink ring.

It burns a little. She is dry. He spits into his hand, trying to stick another finger between her lips.

Still she does not scream. She has an inkling in her mind that what she gives away can never be taken back.

“Can’t wait to try your bum.”

Scott Hansen is not deliberately cruel. He pays attention to her clit until her hips are fluttering under his hands. It almost feels good by the time he spills hot and wet inside of her. Then he begins to swell. “You’re first knot.” He says gleefully, encouraging her to touch it.

Mako flashes her teeth at his touch and he looks taken aback until he remembers that she is not a common whore, she is an alpha like him. He thrusts hard and rough because he knows she can take it.

She can take it. She doesn’t care. She is an alpha, she does what she likes. She wanted to know, she likes to know and she needs to know. It’s biology. It’s inevitable.

Mako lies back and tries to think of the meaning in surrender.

 

Scott Hansen is a liar.

Mako starts getting sick a few months later. She can’t keep food down. Sensei finally drags her to a doctor.

“Who was it?” He asks, when he receives the news. The situation is unreal. He is as close to crying as she has ever seen him. Not even when Tamsin died did he look so aggrieved. She reaches out to touch. He flinches back.

She tells him she wants an abortion, she doesn’t want this thing in her.

Mako is sipping orange juice when he gets the call.

Lucky seven is gone.

 

Later she learns that Hansen-san saw the images inside his brother’s head, the smugness rolling over from seeing Mako sick without knowing exactly why.

Later she learns that Herc might have forgiven him but not this. Not after he laid eyes on his teenaged son.

Biology is a terrible thing.

 

These are the things she has been taught.

It is biology. It’s inevitable.

Then why does it feel so _wrong_?

 

The rotors stop spinning. Raleigh’s scent is like a slap to the face.

He doesn’t seem like much, hungry, disheveled, blond but he sounds and smells exquisite. She can read his entire history off the salt in his sweat, from the blues of his eyes and the strange quirk of his mouth. Maybe this is what it’s like to fall in love at first sight, beyond the awkward fumblings of her prepubescent years.

Sensei looks at her with a warning glance. He is a beta, he does not understand.

Mako loves her father and respects him but will deny him in this.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to yearn for someone beyond the superficies of skin.

 

Chuck is there in the loading bay in his drivesuit when Herc walks without. It can mean only one thing. A drivesuit covers up every gland in the human body except those behind the ears. Others turn to look. They too know what this means.

The world thinks of Chuck as an extension of Herc and they aren’t wrong. But whether Herc likes it or not, it is the natural order of things. It is biology. It’s inevitable. Had he been a girl, things might have been different.

But Chuck is not a girl, he is the boy with sun-kissed hair and bad attitude. A boy who would have done anything she’d asked only she never had because she is an alpha. She knows that. She knows no decent alpha or beta would ever court a boy-omega. Girls can bear but boys can’t. Girls are mothers, boys are for sport.

Chuck is big for an omega and it’s a part of the appeal. He can’t have children but he looks like he can and that kind of advertising sells. Mako is no more immune than the queue of alphas or betas salivating at his heels. What she is doing isn’t wrong. It’s okay if Chuck wants it. It’s Chuck’s choice. Chuck is more than strong enough to throw off those who don’t make the cut.

Raleigh doesn’t understand because he is a beta but he does know that she wants. When she pins him on the mat, he arches his body and bears his throat because he wants to please her so badly it nearly hurts. She wants to keep him, sequester him away in her quarters where dreams of omega-scent can’t touch what they have. Mako wants to reward him for his scentless love, for his devotion and give him the attention he needs.

Herc takes Chuck away and every alpha quavers with _want_.

 

“You can feel it too. We are drift-compatible.”

Raleigh is a beta. He doesn’t have the context nor the frame to understand her desires. But in the drift, he glimpses it, the hunger, the seed that germinates like wild sorrels among the blushing tulips. In the drift, they are beyond body, biology, genetics and instincts. “You’re my copilot.” She finds acceptance, she finds trust and is comforted.

Mako breathes hard when their connection terminates, mouth dry, wet between her lips. Her sensei congratulates her. Tendo congratulates her. In the background, Herc rumbles his approval and Chuck sarcastically remarks fifty-one drops had to mean _something_.

In the conn-pod with Raleigh, the sharp tang of machinery and the relay gel muffling everything else, she wants for nothing. She could stay here forever. This is what she has been missing out. It’s a powerful thing.

 

When he sees her, Chuck stops to nod grudgingly, the anger inverted in him to portray something more flattering. But his expression changes when he sees Raleigh at her side, his eyes narrowed and nostrils flared, bristling defensively like the time he found her with another omega and she didn’t know what was wrong.

He makes it easy. Their biology makes them predictable beasts. He swings and misses and she lifts her lips at the thought that Chuck wanted to hurt her by hurting him.

Blood slicks his lips red and the sight of it makes her charitable. She holds Raleigh back when Herc intervenes, face flushed and looking like he’s bitten into something sour. He exudes a growl that makes her want to submit. Raleigh cringes and stumbles back, she bows her head, resentful even as Chuck is sent away.

Herc looks from her to Raleigh and maybe he understand more than sensei does, more than she does because he’s an alpha. He is an alpha in a pit of alphas, betas, and omegas and there was a time when he regarded her as his own. Before Chuck, before Lucky, before Scott. Back when things were simpler and she was just a girl trying out what it meant to be an alpha in a man’s world.

It nettles her how naïve she had been. She strives to do better because she is the Marshal’s daughter and she has seen what happens when alphas are drunk on power. Raleigh gives her perspective. Scott was wrong. She is wrong. An alpha can’t do whatever they want but it’s biology. It’s inevitable. And maybe that’s why he took Chuck away.

 

"It's been a while since I've visited the pond but since when do you beat up a breeding omega?"

"I came here to apologize."

"No" Herc rejects out of hand. "If you did, you would have come alone."

Mako concedes this point. She and Raleigh aren't mated yet but there is intent. In some cultures that is better than a ring.

“If you don’t want Chuck tell him, he’s a big boy now. But I don’t want you leading him on.”

A growl builds up in her chest but Herc is a senior officer, higher in rank. Worse, he is Chuck’s father and she has seen examples of his protectiveness. To him, it does not matter that it is biology. He is a jaeger pilot, he has fought hurricanes and come out on the other side unscathed. Herc is a veteran of five jaegers, all but one that failed before him. Copilots who are crippled or dead. All except Chuck who is his son and a male omega.

Briefly, she spares a thought to what that is even like. An alpha and an omega in a drift.

“I am not leading him on.” She says. “He knows what is expected of him.”

His lips pull down.

“You are more than a sum of your parts.”

 

If she is more than the sum of her parts, if she is more than just an alpha, she doesn’t know. No one’s ever taught her to say no.

Chuck fights and it’s a beautiful thing. There is no Herc to interfere. Alphas and betas come in groups of twos or threes or more.

“No” He snarls, face flushed even as a wet spot tents in front of his pants.

He growls, an irritable cough compared to a full-throated rumble because he doesn’t have the equipment. He would have only known the sound as a sign to roll over and obey.

His face twists when she kisses him just so she doesn’t have to hear him talk. She is an alpha. There are certain things expected of her. They might even be true.

It’s easy. For a moment, it looks like Chuck might submit.

“What’s the matter Mori?” He taunts, throwing a hot look at Raleigh. “Can’t get it up by yourself?”

There are stigmas attached to being a female alpha, that she's not strong enough, that she seeks to cuckold the _noble_ true alphas. Chuck, off his heat, taunting his sexuality would be labeled a slut. Male omegas aren’t mothers. She’s an alpha. He will submit.

Chuck folds against the counter, letting out a wild keen that tells her she is desirable, that he doesn’t need a cock while she holds on top him like a limpet, her hips a steady pressure against his entrance. It’s biology. He’d only been delaying the inevitable.

Mako finally has him caught in a delicious sprawl, rutting the shelves even as he sobs. He sneaks a hand in to pop open his zipper, stripping his cock in a brutal beat even as Raleigh stared with inhuman focus, taking in the details of their joined forms, scattering the few who were brave enough to come wandering and look.

She purrs in invitation. Her beta, her omega, hers.

Mako is hard, she is wet. Her clitoris stands like a miniature penis. For all that there are no differences in function, she cannot knot and what she’s heard in dorms, hidden away in the washing racks too hurt by girls making fun of that thing between her legs, an omega needs a knot.

As though sensing her hesitation, Chuck lets out another needy whimper as though coming from the grind on his back alone. She drapes herself over him and whispers “Mine.”

 

They retire to her quarters after. No one comes to look for them. They don’t emerge for two days.

She is sticky against Raleigh’s side, his cock limp and warm inside her when Chuck gets up, semen weeping from his cheeks as he gathers his clothes in one arm. The cap sits lopsided on his head as he cleans himself, shoulders diminished and small as though he is ashamed of himself. He flinches when he notices her watching, his eyes following the crest of her body as she stretches in Raleigh’s arms.

Raleigh’s asleep for once. She thinks it has been a long time since he’s been this tired. It’s a good thing.

“You’re leaving.”

Chuck shrugs. It doesn’t quite work.

“My old man will worry.”

Something nags at her like persistent gnawing in her chest.

She pretends she doesn’t see the tremor in his hand.

 

They are consummate, professional even if it weren’t for the stress smell Chuck puts off in close proximity. He tries to cover it up with a bluff, sneers at Raleigh and works out with the triplets who close around him and cajole him into scarfing down requisition food.

It’s not long before they are called to sensei’s office.

Sensei’s impartial, he wants both of them to take responsibility.

But Herc is livid and he knows the truth.

“Did you get off on it?”

“Ranger,” Sensei barks. “You’re out of line.”

But Sensei underestimates the alpha’s fury. What she needs isn’t his beta-steadiness, she needs someone who will watch her back, who will fight with her. She found that in Raleigh and it’s enough, it should be enough. It’s not enough.

It’s biology, it’s inevitable.

“You can’t even admit you want him.”

Herc even smells like him, her omega, their omega, Chuck.

This is wrong. She shakes with lust.

Raleigh looks stricken and confused at her distress and she wants to comfort him, she wants to reach out just to touch.

There was a time when Herc regarded her as an alpha to alpha, a time of innocence, before Chuck, before lucky, before Scott. And it’s not the anger that shames her but the sheer pity.

Maybe, just maybe.

Maybe everyone is wrong.


End file.
